


Busman's Holiday

by Prochytes



Category: Batman (Comics), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-23
Updated: 2011-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-18 13:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prochytes/pseuds/Prochytes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Experts on good form have seldom addressed the awkward social situation that arises when a lady of breeding attempts to steal that which is already being stolen by someone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Busman's Holiday

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Doctor Who “Planet of the Dead”. Christina steals (appropriately enough) a saying of J. F. Roxburgh for her own purposes. Originally posted on LJ in 2009.

Glass display-cases held a certain nostalgia value for the modern amateur cracksman, who in the nature of things tended to see an awful lot of soulless plastic. They were, however, dashed inconvenient to negotiate without messy breakages. Shatter was inelegant, and placed unnecessary burdens the next morning on the cleaning staff of whichever institution one happened to be heisting. Christina de Souza therefore permitted herself a sigh of relief, when she successfully extracted a perfect circle from the face of the cabinet in front of her.

As she reached into the exhibit, Christina paused for a moment. She frowned. Then she withdrew her hand, and addressed the cabinet.

“The Museum shut three hours ago. The security guards should all be on the other side of the building. The guard dogs are uniformly sound-o, thanks to a little chemical concoction of mine – which, I might add, is both harmless in the long-term and innocent of greenhouse gases. Of course, if the journos here in Gotham are like their brothers of Fleet Street, I shall receive no credit for that whatsoever.

“More to the point: I doubt that _I_ could have sneaked up as close behind me as you just have. Which means that you’re probably as good as I am. Judging by this town’s reputation, I think that I may currently be the closest thing to a Crazy.”

Christina shrugged. “But since only game meats have anything to gain from hanging in suspense, I’m going to turn around now.”

Christina suited the action to the word. In light of other possibilities, the lithe woman in a rather literal catsuit whom she could now see eyeing her thoughtfully from beside a pillar was a conspicuous relief.

“Selina Kyle. Of course. It’s frightfully jolly to meet you.”

The other woman raised an eyebrow. “You’ve done your homework, I see.”

“I always was something of a swot when it came to prep, Miss Kyle.”

“So was I, Lady Christina.” The other woman smiled, and padded towards her. “And do call me ‘Selina’. Love your work, by the way.”

“Thank you, Selina. It’s absolutely mutual.” Christina bit her lip. “This is all rather awkward, isn’t it?”

Selina cocked her head on one side. “I thought that Brits were meant to be good at deciding priority. Isn’t the instinct to queue encoded in your DNA?”

“I think that I may have missed that gene. It’s an advantage of high-end jobs like this that right of way is so rarely an issue.”

“Like Speedy Boarding on airplanes, only for crime.”

“Precisely.”

“We’re losing sight of the issue here, though.” Selina tapped her waist thoughtfully. She really did have a whip attached to her belt. One had always assumed that to be a fantasy of the gutter press. “There’s a single exhibit, and two of us.”

“That is a bit of a poser.”

“You could always fight me for it, of course.” Selina’s tone was lighter than her eyes.

Christina gave this due consideration. Selina lacked the “mobile menhir” stature which one had gathered to be _de rigueur_ for the rather rum set she ran with. If anything, Christina had an inch or two of height and reach on her American colleague. But that rather interesting lycra-weave bodysuit divulged a physique that looked at least a match for Christina’s own. And there was a spendthrift lavishness to Selina’s movements (the effortless lounging at angles no one should be able to pull off) which suggested someone who, where athleticism was concerned, had an awful lot in the kitty. So to speak.

Christina seldom turned up her nose at a dropped gauntlet. But there was a time and a place for everything. “I believe the term this side of the Pond is ‘rain check’?”

“I’ll hold you to that. I could use a challenge.” Selina walked over to the exhibit, and frowned. “Still slightly puzzled about the earrings, though. Not your usual prey.”

Christina joined her. “I could say the same thing about you. Limited historical significance…”

“… verging on tacky to look at…”

“… not even all that valuable, really.”

“Hmmm.” Selina’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not going after the earrings at all, are you? You’re getting a kick out of burning their owner.”

Christina grinned. “It’s a fair cop. Let’s just say that Mr. Luthor isn’t on my Christmas card list.”

“My thinking exactly. Anything to turn dear Lex’s hair grey.” Selina’s brow cleared. “One exhibit, but two earrings. And since we’re both just in it for the keepsakes…”

“One apiece, and honour is satisfied.”

“Works for me. Any preferences as to which?”

“Surprise me.”

Selina fished out the earrings, and handed one over. “So, Christina, larceny aside, are you enjoying your stay in Gotham?”

“Very much so. A little Gothic for my taste, but a change from the routine. No strangely alluring but awfully know-it-all men, for a start.”

Selina scratched her head ruefully. “You’d be surprised…”

“Oh dear. Sore point?”

“Kinda.” Selina scowled in the general direction of the skylights. “It’s not so much that he always carries on as though he knows something you don’t. It’s the suspicion that he almost certainly does.”

Christina snorted. “If my experience is anything to go by, he’s probably making more of it up as he goes along than he wants you to think.”

“Probably. Doesn’t stop him walking around this city like he owns it.”

“Just a city? My dear, count yourself lucky.” Christina pocketed her earring, and started heading for the fire escape. “Can I drop you off anywhere, by the way? I’m parked on the roof.”

“Huh?” The night air of Gotham stung Selina’s cheeks as she climbed upwards after Christina. “I didn’t see anything on… the…” Selina blinked and squinted at the open space that came into view. “Is that… a London bus? With an antigravity drive?”

“Of course not, silly.” Christina clambered out onto the roof and stood with her hands on her hips. “It’s a London bus with an antigravity drive _and_ a perceptual filter. Even with the hint, I’m impressed that it was so easy for you to notice it.”

“This town breaks you in to seeing the weird. That man I was telling you about? He keeps a robot dinosaur in his basement.” Selina cautiously approached the vehicle. “Did you build this?”

“The bus and the drive were… windfalls.” Christina eased herself into the driver’s seat, and pressed some buttons. “The filter I owe to a frightfully dashing military gentleman in Cardiff, of all places. I helped him out while he was short-staffed; and, in return, he gave me a splinter from a rather remarkable piece of pavement above his base. The science-wallahs tell me that it resonates a perceptual filter through the anti-gravity field. Now, where can I take you?”

Selina climbed aboard. “Thanks a lot. I’m heading for a manor house, some miles outside the city limits. I’ll give you directions.” She settled into a seat, and unfolded an expensively simple gown from her backpack. “There’s a charity fund-raiser I’m supposed to be attending. In fact…” Selina paused with her hand on a zip, and chuckled. “Do you happen to have a party dress on board this contraption, Christina?”

Christina checked her mirror for low-flying aircraft, and smiled smugly. “An English public schoolgirl should always be acceptable at a dance and invaluable in a shipwreck. I have three.”

“Fancy tagging along as my enigmatic British cousin, then?”

Christina looked sceptical. “Will your host really buy that?”

“Not for a second. But he’s the kind of guy who likes a mystery.”

“A man after my own heart. Does he look good in a suit?”

“Oh trust me, Christina.” Below the rising bus Gotham was velvet, studded with jewels. “You don’t know the half of it.”

FINIS


End file.
